The Storyteller

 

The heat radiated through my ceramic coffee mug and warmed my hands.  Initially it felt hot, but the coldness of my fingers quickly dissipated the sting of the temperature.  I could see my breath, and it blended with the steam rising from the coffee.

 

The falling snow landed quietly on the landscape that stretched out beyond my window.  I clicked the typewriter to life, and the familiar hum broke the silence of the room.  I glanced down at the blank page awaiting my words.  One more sip before I begin.

 

The only thing older than Jake was his rickety poker table, but it was good enough.  This was Friday and the boys would be walking in soon.  He had a fresh deck of cards in the center of the table, trays of poker chips at every position, and the usual matchbook under the short leg to stop the wobble.  As usual, everyone brought what they wanted to drink.  He was not about to supply the beer, not on his meager pay.

 

By 8:30 the game was in full swing.  His stack of chips had all but disappeared.  If he didn’t start winning soon, he’d be sitting out, which was awkward, seeing as he was the host.  It was Larry’s deal and as usual, he jabbered more than he shuffled.  Someone always had to nudge him to keep the game going.  This time, he was going on and on about his new snow tires.

 

Skip interrupted by announcing the pot was light. 

 

“Larry, you didn’t ante yet.”

 

Larry tossed a chip into the center of the table and started to deal.  “We’re playing follow the queen.”

 

As I scooped up my cards I couldn’t believe it.  I had a natural ace high flush.  I tried to control my excitement, but had my luck suddenly changed?  I casually looked around at the other faces to see if I saw anyone else noticing me.   Nope.  This was going to be good.

 

When it came around to me, I tossed two black chips in the pot.  “I raise fifty.”  No one seemed phased and nobody dropped out.  In fact, Gary raised again, another fifty.  This just might be the biggest pot of the night, and here I was with an ace high flush.

 

Then out of nowhere Bob says, “So where did you get your tires.”  He was looking straight at Larry, but Larry didn’t look up.  He tossed his cards face down on the table and started blubbering.  “I didn’t.  I just said that. I don’t know why.”

 

Ned, the odd one of the group said, “What’s going on Larry?”  Larry looked up at him and said, “Marge is leaving me.”

 

All I could think was – let’s finish this hand boys.  I finally got something.  But nobody seemed interested in playing.  Everyone was focused on Larry, who was now lost in Larry land.

I couldn’t help it, I had to speak up.  “Let’s finish this hand fellas and then we’ll take a break.”

 

Lynn tossed his cards down in front of him and said, “Can anyone beat five nines?”

 

It was like someone had let all the air out of me.  I was deflated just that quickly.  I had now lost all but four dollars worth of chips.  My ace high flush wasn’t about to beat five nines.  “Okay, let’s take a break.”

 

Then Ned tosses in, “I thought your wife’s name was Mary?”

 

Larry looks up, “It is, Marge is, or was, my girlfriend.”

 

Bill scooted his chair back and said, “That’s disgusting.  We’re supposed to feel sorry for you?”

 

It felt like this night was about to be over, which was fine with me.  I wasn’t going to get far with four dollars worth of chips.

 

As the last one was leaving, he stopped and looked back at me.  “Invest in a new table.  That matchbook isn’t doing its job anymore.”

 

I clicked the typewriter off and picked up my empty coffee mug.  It felt cold.  Not sure where I was going with this story but for now I needed more coffee.